


can't touch the stars, can't make them shine

by vickydd



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Deppresion, Hope you enjoy, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance character study, Langst, Math, Panic Attack, Season 3, Season 3 Spoilers, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, also season 3 opened up so many new character dynamics i want to explore, black rejecting lance, blue paladin lance, blue rejecting lance, i love lance but this new season did a number on him so i gotta be mean, lance have replacing keith issues, mentions of the garrison, oneshot', red paladin lance, s3 ep2 red paladin, set before ep 6 but after ep 2, seventh wheel lance, some direct quotes from season 3 but not much, takes a lot og langst stuff season three didnt fully explore and explores it, title from Ghosts by BANNERS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vickydd/pseuds/vickydd
Summary: Lance takes a moment to breathe. And then another.It feels harder than it should, but then again, most things still do after Shiro’s disappearance.Lance knows that if he doesn’t get his breathing under control in a couple of seconds, he might end up having a panic attack, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with that right now.Not on top of everything else.Not on top of being rejected by Black, rejected by Blue, replaced by Allura, and being, in a way, forced to take on Red. Not on top of accepting Keith’s new position, or knowing that they had absolutely no idea where Shiro was, or not knowing when the next time he would see his family again, if ever, would be. Or that the Galra had gotten themselves a new asshole to rule over in the shape of Zarkon’s son.Just. . . .Lance didn’t need this.(or: a langsty season 3 lance character study)





	can't touch the stars, can't make them shine

**Author's Note:**

> . . . . so i've decided that i want to make langst one shots my bitch, so here you go! a second langst one shot!! this one is way lighter compared to the scars make the man, which u should totally read if you havent yet btw =)  
>  as the tags say, super season 3 oriented, and super duper langsty
> 
> while keith doesnt actually show up he is a main character in this, as lance's angst usually ties back to him, but y'all shall see
> 
> i just really wanted to play with all the emotions he must of been feeling the whole season, since like, literally, if that had been me this would have been me (= =)
> 
> WARNINGS ARE IN TAGS (if you feel i missed something hmu)
> 
> enjoy your langst! Happy belated, my cool ninja sharpshooter <3

Lance takes a moment to breathe. And then another.

It feels harder than it should, but then again, most things still do after Shiro’s disappearance.

And while some things were by far easier than others, like talking to Hunk, joking with the team, and flying Blue, others were weighing him down in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

Lance knows that if he doesn’t get his breathing under control in a couple of seconds, he might end up having a panic attack, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with that right now.

Not on top of everything else.

Not on top of being rejected by Black, rejected by Blue, replaced by Allura, and being, in a way, forced to take on Red. Not on top of accepting Keith’s new position, or knowing that they had absolutely no idea where Shiro was, or not knowing when the next time he would see his family again, if ever, would be. Or that the Galra had gotten themselves a new asshole to rule over in the shape of Zarkon’s son.

Just. . . Lance didn’t need this.

But his lungs didn’t seem to take that into account. Neither did his heart rate, as a matter of fact.

He’s in his room, thank god. He’d barely been in here a couple of minutes before he had noticed the conscious struggle building in his throat, and now, he sits on his bed, awkwardly fidgeting his fingers for something to do.

His breathing accelerates even more, and Lance tries to focus. Tries to calm down.

But he can’t. Deep in his chest – where that comforting purr that had kept him going and fighting had been for the last who knows how long time that they’d been in space – there’s nothing.

Lance hadn’t known how much he’d relied on that feeling Blue gave him. That confidence, that in more than a million ways, was much more real than what Lance used most of the time to keep his own energized and exuberant persona up.

Lance stands, hoping the blood rushing from his head can distract him from the onslaught of unwelcome thoughts and the pain of Blue being gone. It doesn’t.  

Sure, he could sense the tingling’s of Red at his fingertips, shy and grounding, but the feeling is almost painful. His connection with Red right now feels like he’s being pulled from all sides in a tug of war, as if the lion had latched on and refused to let him go, but was still trying to come to terms with the situation itself.

He knows what he said to Blue before stands true. Truer than a whole lot of things he’s said – like, ever.  . .

That this situation royally sucks. That no matter what Lance wants, he doesn’t choose what he gets.

And this, this situation, its overwhelmingly familiar, which is why Lance can’t take it anymore. He wants to be able to be there for Keith, Allura, the rest of the team, to prove himself, but he knows. He _knows_ that if he doesn’t take this time to himself right now to calm down and think it all through he won’t be able to handle it. He won’t be able to help anyone, useless seventh wheel or not.

Lance grabs his pillow off his bed and throws it as hard as he can into the wall across the room. He gasps, but it doesn’t feel like any oxygen is traveling into his airways and down his lungs. He holds his breath, unwilling to become a gasping, shaking mess. He doesn’t need this right now.

But it isn’t about what he wants, or what he needs, he thinks bitterly. It never has been.

Ever since the Garrison. Even before, but Lance misses his family too much to think of them in anguish.

It’s about Keith, he admits to himself. Once again, he thinks, knowing he’s being petty and inconsiderate and god he hates himself sometimes, it’s about Keith.

“Keith,” he says through a tense jaw, voice small and sharp and dripping in envy, as if saying the name itself will help him start breathing again.

It feels like it’s always been about the stupid mullet head, Lance realizes, pinching his fingertips harshly in order to anchor himself.

It had taken Lance weeks to finally work up the skills and marks to get Iverson to let him in the simulator back at the Garrison. When he finally had gotten his chance, Lance tried his best. Iverson had looked half impressed, and Lance felt proud. Deserving.

Then Keith had gone after him, and Iverson had turned to him with a look of complete un-impressiveness. Of disinterest and disappointment. “Huh,” he’d sneered, “seems I was wrong to think you beyond your peers, McClain. Obviously, you should be attempting to follow your fellow cadet’s example.”

Keith had moved up to fighter pilot at the end of the year, and Lance had not.

Lance sits back down. He manages a breath in, finally, but his vision is spotty. Tears well up in his eyes, and his throat is burning. His mind is spiraling in ugly brutal honesty, feelings and emotions clogging his mask.

This is where things get very petty, but Lance can’t help it. He’d constructed up a completely one-sided rivalry with Keith, his problems with the other boy didn’t end there.

Then Keith had gotten himself kicked out. And Lance had luckily been moved up. But it didn’t help. He kept trying his best, kept trying to prove himself, but Iverson shot him down, his classmates shot him down, and the simulator shot him down. He wasn’t Keith, and everyone made sure to remind him of this. He’d ranted to Hunk one day, but the guy hadn’t seemed to totally get it. It was cool. Lance could get over it.

He couldn’t.

But he could put up on hell of a persona to make sure that no else knew that. He was the best. It didn’t matter if Keith was better, or if Lance would never be close to his natural talent, Lance would believe he was better. Act, like he was better.

He wasn’t. He obviously isn’t. especially not after this.

None of the others were rejected by their lions. None of the others spent half a varga inside the Black lion because they couldn’t accept that they truly weren’t that valuable to the team.

Lance takes another breath.

But then there were five, and then seven, and then Voltron, and then a war, and then six, and it’s still a war. It’s still a fucking war. And Lance feels like he has done nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Because if he had, he wouldn’t feel like a seventh wheel. He would have a thing, and he would be included in important missions and feel like a part of this team. News flash, he snarks himself, he does not feel like a part of this team. Not really.

At least, he doesn’t feel like anyone looks at him like an important part of the team. Maybe Hunk, but come on, it was Hunk. Lance wasn’t in the business of kying to himself.

At least, not in private.

The goof ball. Huh.

No wonder Blue didn’t want him.

Tears stream down his cheek.

And Keith.

It always came back to Keith.

_“You’re joking, right?”_

The words still echo a bit in Lance’s head. Of course, Lance wants to say to them.

_Of course_ he was joking. He wasn’t cool like Hunk, or a ninja like Keith or Shiro, or the only paladin with a rifle like weapon.

He didn’t want to believe he was joking. . . but after all this proof that his words were nothing but? What else could Lance feel? Other than like he’s choking, because the tears have started really Niagara Falling down his cheeks on over his lips and Lance is still trying to breathe.

Keith’s fighter pilot spot, his lion. . . what was next? What else would Lance only be useful as a replacement for, rather than as himself?

Would he ever be useful as himself?

“Probably not,” he chokes out loud. Answering the thought vocally sends a stab of pain throughout his abdomen, and his head pounds. Out loud, things are more real, and out loud, just in private, Lance can’t lie to himself.

Lance fists his hands into his legs, and takes another shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the rushing of blood in his ears.

And because Lance is who he was, and his brain often went ahead and got way ahead of itself, sometimes taking his mouth along for the ride, he has already thought the whole thing through, even prior to his current break down.

Shiro. Shiro will be back. They’ll find him, he has to believe it. And he does. They’ll find him. Lance probably won’t be a big help, but then again, when is he ever?

Finding Shiro though. . . Lance has done the math.

Six paladins. Five lions.

And shit if Lance deserved to pilot one of these lions more so then compared to his teammates.

No way. Not when there’s people like Keith and Shiro on the team, people who are light years ahead of Lance in terms of usefulness.

He curls up on himself, devastated by self-pity and envy and nostalgia. He feels full to the brim with problems, and already, he looks for solutions. He feels a little insane, knowing that he hasn’t even swallowed down the whole gist of the problem yet, but he has to try.

Ways to not be a burden.

To keep his façade up and not let his team get hurt.

He will not do that to them.

He cries openly now, but that is okay. He _needs_ to get this out of his system.

Life is unfair. And it sucks.

It sucks that Lance hasn’t seen his family in ages, and that blue doesn’t want him as her pilot anymore, and that he was to be Keith’s fucking replacement once again, and that Keith was able to pilot the Black lion, and he wasn’t, and that Lance doesn’t feel like he does anything worthwhile for this team, not as much as he’d like the others to think he does.

It sucks, but he needs to let this panic attack blow over. He’ll find his footing within his own head again, he’ll take a nice shower and put on a face mask, and he’ll be able to think about how to make sure he doesn’t get in the way of his team.

Right now, they still need him. Lance plans to be there for them until they don’t.

It’s terrifying to know that at this rate, they will not need him for very much longer.

Lance cries. He knows he’s overthinking, but it doesn’t help.

He cries, he gasps, and he shakes.

He breathes. He picks himself up. He collects his pillow from the floor across the room.

He strips, and he steps into a warm shower.

The water runs down his skin, and Lance is reminded of rain.

He keeps breathing.

> _Can't touch the stars, or make them shine_   
>  _If I had the time, until the day we die_   
>  _Can't touch the stars, can't make them shine_   
>  _But you know I'll try_   
>  _For you I'll try_

**Author's Note:**

> omg hope you enjoy and arent mad at me!!  
> guys, season 4 is totally gonna be happier for lance =) i . . . .hope?
> 
> well, have a good night and thanks for reading <3
> 
> comments and kudos not only make my day but are just an absolutely wonderful thing you can do for any new writer, so i really hope you could take the time to let me know how you liked ittt <3<3<3


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